


Her mousy brown hair

by LadyLoss15



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, happy end-ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-23
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-27 19:07:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5060488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLoss15/pseuds/LadyLoss15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tonks couldn't use her Metamorphmagus skills. How it happened and effected her life, and how she decided to stick to that particular mousy brown hair style she used to hate so much at the beginning? Read it now. ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Her mousy brown hair

**Author's Note:**

> Of course, I don't own any of the characters, even if I'd like to.

It was an especially rainy day that February in London. Tonks was running through an almost empty street, the flickering street lamps above her head giving her barely enough light to see the cobble under her fast moving feet. She looked back to check if the Death Eaters were still chasing her and almost fell over.

She turned left to a deserted alley and Disapparated immediately. She reappeared a moment later just a few feet away from the door of her flat. Panting heavily, she fumbled with her keys and realised she was not able to get inside since her hands shook too violently. She leaned to her door and stared up at the white, dirty ceiling.

Her breathing was uneven, she had to calm down if she wanted to do anything else than stand there, tears gathering in her eyes, until a neighbour would find her and help her, not without unpleasant questions, though.

She closed her eyes and concentrated on memories that cheered her up. She imagined her mother, eyes laughing, her father, reading in his armchair, his stuff totally messy on his desk. She saw Remus, smiling faintly, warm eyes looking at her... okay, she had to change the direction of her thoughts or she would get just more troubled.

When Tonks opened her eyes, she could breath more or less normally and she found the keyhole so she could get into her flat, finally. She closed it behind herself with a loud thud, then threw her keys to the coffee table and went to her little bathroom, kicking her coach with a toe so hard that her eyes went all watery again and she kind of fell into her bathroom, catching the edge of the sink in the last moment.

She stood up straight and stared at her reflection in the big, oval shaped mirror. She was pale, her eyes electric blue, her flat hair mousy brown. She hated it.

Closing her eyes and concentrating hard on purple tufts, she tried to transform herself into another of her usual forms. She opened her eyes and saw immediately that she had failed. The tears started falling at once.

The bathroom floor was cold and the wall tile hard against her back, but she couldn't move a muscle. Not that she wanted to, either. She sat there for a long time, could have been even hours, waiting for the tears to stop, but they wouldn't.

Deciding that she surely cannot be such a snivelling prat, she stood up again, threw her clothes to the floor and stepped under her shower. The water was icy cold against her skin and made her gasp aloud, then it changed to one nicely warm, and she closed her eyes, trying to relax and shut her negative thoughts out. She failed in that, too.

Still sobbing quietly, she washed the dirt and the sweat from her skin and lifted her hand to her eyes. She was determined to transform something on herself, anything, really. She stared at her nails, short and dim, and tried to make them grow. Nothing. Then concentrated on making them red. Nothing. At least changing their shapes, she thought desperately, but again, nothing happened.

She closed her eyes in terror. Losing her only really useful and unique ability made her feel weak and vulnerable. She was worth nothing without her skill to change into someone else in a minute. It was the only thing she was good at. Well, if you don't count clumsiness and disorganisation. Fuck it all.

The tiny bathroom got really steamy from the hot water running from the shower, so she turned it off and made her way to her bedroom, getting a fluffy dressing gown from her wardrobe.

She sat on her bed and stared at the green wall opposite her. It was almost fully dark in her bedroom and she had no intention of switching the lights on. It must have been around three or four in the morning already, she thought, and a wave of exhaustion hit her. Not surprising, since she had been working for the Order every single hour she hadn't had work to do at the Ministry. She couldn't imagine how Snape managed to play the double agent if it was just half as tiring as this.

Drifting between thoughts about her work for the Order and her kitchen equipment - she had broken at least six plates and four glasses just that month -, she got alarmingly close to dozing off. But she had to shake herself up because she hadn't yet finished with her work. She had to inform Dumbledore about her failure, even is she had really tried to avoid this step of her duty, she knew it was inescapable.

Her Patronus, which she still couldn't get used to see, appeared in front of her and padded to her window just to disappear with her message to the Headmaster. She stared after it bitterly.

It reminded her of Remus. Of course it did, how could it have not. Remus.

The name rang loudly and sadly in her mind. She missed him so much, yet she was so pissed of with him that day that she wasn't sure she would have wanted to see him.

It was the morning after Valentine's Day, after all. Last day, she had eaten her breakfast while going to work, and she had just gotten a glimpse of a big pink and red sign saying "Happy Valentine's Day" and advertising some mugs with hearts on it. Then she had started to see all of it. Kissing couples and pink signs everywhere, and she had just wanted to cry. She had felt alone and miserable. She had missed Remus so much, and she had known that even if he had been there, he wouldn't have done anything at all, because he had still insisted on that friendship-crap.

She had arrived at work late that morning and her smile had been unmistakeably fake. But fortunately no one had ever cared. The problem had been the letter she had received in the afternoon. It had been really short, one single sentence, actually. It had said: _"I'm coming home in a few days time, hope we can meet. Take care, Remus"._

And after this, Tonks had just burst into tears. She had actually had to go home before starting her work for the Order later that evening, just to put herself together again.

Not so shocking news then, that she was unable to change her outfits with one single thought. It had happened once or twice since Sirius had died. But she had always managed to do it after a few attempts. Well, until this night, it seems.

She was lying on her bed, wearing just the fluffy gown, her hair wet from the shower, and she started to feel chilly but she found no strength in herself to get up and find some clothes or pyjama or something. She just stayed there and realised she started crying again. She was angry at herself, but couldn't help it.

Wiping away the tears, she started humming some old nursery rhyme. It should have sounded cheerful but seemed more like a funeral march. She laughed bitterly at the thought.

The softness of her bed against her back, so comforting, she fell asleep, tears sliding down her cheeks.

 

The next time Tonks desperately wanted to change her appearance happened on a cloudy day in March, just a few days before April. It was already warmer outside, she wore just jeans and a light T-shirt under her robes. She was following a tall Death Eater and everything went in order but then four other wizards Apparated close to them and one of them she immediately recognised as Lucius Malfoy.

She screwed up her face to change the colour of her hair and the shape of her nose, but when she touched the tip of her nose to check if it was successful, she realised with growing fear that her Metamorhmagus-self had failed her again.

She could barely see the door of her flat when she Disapparated, highly disappointed. The bitter feeling in her mouth didn't vanished when she had to send her Patronus to Dumbledore with the message of her failure, again.

Collapsing onto her couch, she levitated a bottle of Butterbeer to herself. She wanted something much stronger, maybe Firewhiskey, but she knew she had to remain sober. Dumbledore would come to talk to her about her continuous failures. Or he would send someone, if he didn't have enough time. But she would be bothered, she was sure.

And the knocking on her door came sooner than she had expected it, not even half an hour later. She flicked her wand towards the lock on her door and accidentally knocked the now empty bottle from her coffee table, so the same moment her guest stepped into the flat the bottle was shattering on the floor.

With her dirty clothes, which she hadn't bothered to put away, and glass tiles everywhere, her flat couldn't look any messier, she realised. And then she looked up and gasped.

It was Remus standing in front of her, his robes so ridiculously shabby that Tonks wanted to think it was just for fun and not because he hadn't got better ones. She hadn't seen him in weeks. Actually, the only time she had met him recently was two weeks after that horrible Valentine's Day. And it hadn't ended well, of course.

"Hi" she said finally, and murmured "Reparo!" to the shattered bottle, so it glued itself together and stood back to the table. Her untidy clothes remained where they had been before.

"Hello" Remus managed to say. He stepped closer and watched the young witch with disbelief. She seemed much older and wearier than a few weeks before, and that was something Remus had believed could never happen. She was pale and had tears gathering in her eyes.

"You look terrible" Tonks said conversationally and she looked everywhere but at his face. She was right, if she was in a bad condition, Remus was halfway to be dead. His face was so white it was frightening, his eyes big and dark, the lines on his face deep. He looked terribly ill.

"Thanks. You too" replied Remus. _You're beautiful anyway_ , he added in his mind, silently, not daring saying it aloud.

"After such nice compliments" she started, and Remus couldn't help but smile at her immortal humour, "you could tell my why you came."

The man walked to the couch and sat down next to Tonks, but trying to stay as far from her as possible, so he ended up half-sitting, half-standing at the other end of the piece of furniture.

"Dumbledore sent me" he told her simply.

"Oh" replied Tonks, and she felt the tears gathering again. All she wanted to do was hugging Remus close and making sure that he was okay. She wanted to hug him and cry and let him comfort her. She wanted to be brave and strong and let him hug her and comfort him while he cried, because it seemed Remus could do with a good cry and a warm hug, too.

"What had happened? Could I help you, somehow?" asked Remus, and he seemed concerned and Tonks had to look away or she would have cuddled to him immediately. Instead, she just shook her head.

Remus slipped closer hesitantly and reached an arm to stroke the woman's arm a bit. It caused him a lot of pain to see her in such a bad state. He wondered if it was he who had caused it, at least partly.

"Please, let me help you" he asked.

"I would, if you wanted, you know" replied Tonks bitterly, and a sob escaped through her lips. She pursed her lips together and stood up from the couch. "Maybe you should leave" she said and she already hated herself for saying that, she screamed silently in her mind, begging him not to go.

Remus looked up at her, confused. He wanted to stay, but he feared it would be a bad decision. He would let her get closer to him and that should never happen.

"Maybe I should" he agreed, yet he couldn't move. Dumbledore had sent him to comfort Tonks, to talk to her, to make sure she would be okay. Instead, he had just made her even sadder, so far.

"Door is that way" murmured Tonks, pointing to her door, and when Remus didn't stand up, all of a sudden, she started to cry.

"Hey" embraced Remus the woman immediately when she collapsed to the couch a moment later. He hugged her close and rubbed her back to soothe her crying. "It's okay, shhh, it's okay" he mumbled to her ear and he knew it was a big lie, and probably Tonks knew it too, but after a few minutes of hugging and murmuring she stopped sobbing.

"I'm sorry" she choked and pulled away. Remus wanted to grab her, he wanted to hold her longer, maybe forever, but he just lowered his fists to his lap.

"It's me who is sorry, Nymphadora" admitted the man sadly. "I am such a bad friend" she laughed bitterly.

"Actually, I don't want you to be my friend and you don't want to be mine, so maybe that's the reason you're such bad at it" she shrugged, and Remus stared at her, but could not read from her face. It was plain and pale, a bit sad, but nothing else.

"Now that you're more or less okay, I think it's time for me to leave" said Remus and felt himself such a coward it almost hurt his unbelievably low self-esteem.

"Then go" replied Tonks quietly, and looked determinedly down, staring at the fluffy rug under her feet.

"Ehmm..." Remus started, but couldn't think of anything to say.

"Fuck, just go and leave me suffer, would you?!" shouted Tonks when she looked up at him. He saw new tears in her eyes, but her face was hard. "Just fucking go!"

"Sorry" he murmured guiltily but didn't take a step.

"Remus" snapped Tonks menacingly. "Go away. I'm serious."

"You're... you're what?" he stared at her with disbelief, then he realised how stupid he was. Of course, she said serious, not Sirius, but after thinking and talking so much about his late best friend just that day with Molly, it had seemed to him she had been saying... Oh, for Merlin's sake, he screwed this up very well.

Tonks glared at him and started kind of shouting and crying at the same time, so he couldn't understand the words but the message was unmistakeable. He had to leave.

"I'm sorry, Nymphadora" he said sadly, and before he could stop himself, he added "I love you". Then, terrified of what he had just said, he rushed to the door. Tonks went silent at once, and by the time she could put the pieces together, he was far away, hiding in a dark and cold room at the Shrieking Shack.

 

It took Tonks three whole days to gather enough courage and find him. She was walking up the path to the Shrieking Shack with shaking legs. She was exhausted and frustrated. She knew when she would find Remus, he would deny everything and he would push her away, again. And this time it would be even worse. Yet she had to find him. She needed him.

When she opened the door of the fourth randomly chosen room in that horrible house, she found Remus sleeping on the dirty bed, sheets thrown down to the dusty floor, his shoes and robes on, even while sleeping. Though it shouldn't have taken her by surprise as it was really cold inside the Shrieking Shack. Somehow even colder than outside. She shuddered.

Walking to the bed, she observed the dirty and dark room. It was highly unfriendly and she felt a pressure in her chest and hot tears burning her eyes. She imagined what being without a home could be like, that this amazing and strong and precious man had nowhere to go home, no one to help him. He had pushed everybody away.

No, this wasn't true, and Tonks knew it. His friends all died or betrayed him. He suffered so much that he wasn't able to let someone get close to him again. Not while he could lost them.

The only thing he left out from his calculations was Nymphadora Tonks. She understood why he couldn't let himself love again, maybe even with bigger love than ever before. She understood him but she was determined to show him that their case was NOT going to end badly. She wanted to give him everything he should have gotten from life before, and even more.

"How did you find me?" croaked Remus from the bed, accusingly, and Tonks realised he had just awoken.

"I wanted hard" she replied, and sat next to him. "Remus, I know you've already regretted saying that you love me and I can't really blame you for it. But it's tiring and I can't do it anymore. I need you, and you need to now this" she sputtered so quickly he could hardy catch everything she had said.

"I... we can't be together, you know" he replied slowly.

" I knew you would say that but I don't care" shook Tonks her head. "You know what? You can tell me every single reason why you think I cannot possibly be with you, but not now. For now, I just need to hug you close. After that, we can discuss the matter of being together. Sounds good? Great." she smiled, and bent to hug Remus close.

He was so surprised it took him a few moments to understand everything she had just told him. A faint smile appeared on his lips when he pulled the young witch down on the bed and hugged her back.

"You know, I think I need a few more minutes to organise my arguments effectively, so in the meantime we could just cuddle" he said, shrugging, and she couldn't help but laugh. Merlin, if it had been so easy, why couldn't they had done it earlier.

"I love you too, you know, just in case it would matter in our discussion" she sighed, and cuddled closer to Remus. He had a nice smell and he was so warm she got sleepy at once. "Better be hurry or I might doze off" she warned him, and he smiled down at her.

"You can, if you want to" he assured her. "My highly convincing arguments can wait."

Tonks buried her face in his chest and murmured something about missing him a lot. He felt a funny feeling rising in his chest. He had been so cruel to this woman, but he had had to, and he would keep doing it, for her own safety. He was cursed and she was innocent and young and pure.

But these depressing thoughts could wait, he decided, when he looked down at the almost sleeping woman in his arms. "I like your hair, Nymphadora" he murmured.

Tonks wanted to tell him that she hated both her hair and him calling her Nymphadora. But the second one would have been a lie, since she actually loved to be called on her first name when _he_ said it. And if he really loved her hair, then maybe she kind of accepted it too. Not that she could have changed it or something. Maybe she didn't hate it, after all. She could get used to it, she thought, and she fell asleep.


End file.
